


When the Dust Settles

by chaosminion



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Dom!Loki, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Power Play, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, author has a lot of feelings, bottom!tony, civil war aftermath, civil war spoilers, sex is not therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6932191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosminion/pseuds/chaosminion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the bad breakup, Tony is troubled and caught in a cycle of self loathing, he turns to the god of tricks for relief from the guilt that weighs him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Dust Settles

**Author's Note:**

> TONY STARK JUST NEEDS A HUG. EVERYONE NEEDS TO STOP BLAMING MY TONY. AUTHOR HAS A LOT OF FEELINGS AND WRITES SMUT TO GET THEM OUT. 
> 
> But in all seriousness, I've put the proper parameters in place for bdsm, and remember that Tony wants this from Loki, even the humiliation.

Coming home from Siberia had been more than a little jarring for Tony Stark. For one, Avengers compound seemed empty with only three of them, sometimes four when Natasha was around. Vision kept to himself for the most part, and Rhodey was often in his room or therapy, working with the legs that Tony had built for him and bending them to his will. Now it was too quiet without all the team around and in his hair. Tony actually missed the way Steve would hound them all to train and train for no reason other than to watch them sweat.

Not that Tony ever admitted to missing the patriotic son of a bitch except when he was alone in his room.

That's when the silence pressed in on him, threatening to crush him beneath the weight of his crimes and guilt. He couldn't share it with Rhodey, who would try to shift the blame, nor could he stand more philosophical clap trap from Vision.

Tony was alone with his thoughts, and the screams, and the memories. Sometimes he would wake to the pounding feeling in his chest and think that Steve was still pummeling him into the floor, aiming for his chest, to crush the life from him. Sometimes the ghost of a metal arm was on his throat, slowly squeezing the way it had squeezed his mother's...

And he would wake up, gasping and sweating, crying a few tears for the friend he had lost, the last connection he had to his parents.

That didn't even count the eyes he saw, staring at him from the shadows. They accused him of murder, of recklessness, of selfish ambition with no regard to the innocent lives taken. But Tony knew. He knew the names, knew their stories. Like the Maximoffs, he knew of the people his work or decisions had affected, of the family's torn apart.

Endlessly the memories played, taunting him with his helplessness. New York. Sokovia. Berlin.

Siberia...

No, don't think about Siberia.

Rhodey would tell him those were not his fault, and he couldn't shoulder the blame.

Rhodey was wrong.

Tony knew the truth, that the blame was entirely on his shoulders. It was why he was alone now, shaking on his bed in the dead of night, with no diversions to distract him from his demons. He couldn't turn to alcohol, he had tried that. He couldn't work on his suites, it left a bitter taste in his mouth after what it had done to Pepper.

Ah, Pepper.... dear Pepper who had loved him, but had finally had enough, and had washed her hands of him. Not that he could blame her. Tony was surprised she didn't loathe him more, that she had put up with him that long. Well, all good things must come to an end...

That was his fault, too.

Which was why Tony turned to the only addiction he had left, desperate to fill up the void and relieve the choking pressure. He spoke into the darkness of his room, his fingers polishing a smooth crystal set into a ring that he usually kept buried in his drawers.

"Loki."

At first, nothing happened. Then the air shimmered slightly by the window, the dim light bending in a strange way that Tony's mind could not comprehend. It was like when Vision did his weird walking through walls thing. It made no sense so Tony had to ignore it in order to accept it.

Haggard eyes looked on as the object of his summoning stepped into the room, his regal bearing seeming to fill the empty room without making it claustrophobic. The pale face and arrogant gaze was a welcome sight, the only beautiful thing left in the world. Long legs strapped in leather took a few steps forward, then stopped, regarding Tony with no small amount of curiosity.

"Tony Stark," he said, and the genius hated how it turned his bones to molten rock. "Why have you called me here?"

Tony let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding, resting his forehead in his hands. "Boy, you sure are a sight for sore eyes..."

He felt more than heard the steps approach, then the cool fingers were in his hair, combing it back and down, trying to tame the unruly strands into order. It only took a little bit of leaning forward for his head to rest against the lower portion of that steady abdomen, and there he kept it, silently begging for acceptance and comfort.

Loki gave him both. The god did not need an explanation as the seconds ticked by, merely kept his fingers running through Tony's hair like he was never going to stop.

Though the silence could not last. "Tony. Tell me what is wrong."

That's when the flood gates opened, his mouth unable to hold back the explosion.

"What's wrong? Everything is wrong! It's all gone to shit! Just like last time! Every time I try to fix my mistakes, or make things better, or just- just try to keep everyone together, it all shatters in my hands like glass! And now that Steve is gone, and Pepper is gone, and once again I'm left with nothing but the nightmares, what am I supposed to do?!"

His shouting had not bothered the god, who let Tony rage without interruption. His fingers had paused, settling on Tony's shoulders. The man was looking up, pleading for some light or guidance.

Loki sighed, a heavy sound of understanding. "You go on."

A strangled cry was muffled by Loki's shirt. "I don't want to..."

"It's not like you to give up, Tony."

Tony sighed, slumping against the god. "It would be better. Everything is my fault anyway."

"Did you make the decision for Rogers?"

"No... but he chose my parent's murderer over me." And boy, did that hurt like nothing else.

Loki hummed. "A strong bond is difficult to break. No doubt the man has just as much guilt as you do."

Tony knew that.... but couldn't quite accept it yet. He still recalled the tape, and that horrible moment when he realized what scene was being played out, then glancing over and staring right at the man who had murdered his parents with no remorse. A man Howard Stark had known, and fought with in the war.

He could still recall the ice hot rage that had taken over, drowning anything else.

"I don't care," he said, petulant. "Steve knew.... He fucking knew!"

"Would you have him condemned?"

Tony shook his head, shaking slightly as confused thoughts swirled all around, never stopping. "I don't know.... I don't know... I just want..."

"What do you want, Anthony?" The smooth voice asked. It was like a lifeline, a cliff edge for him to hang on to. Tony clung to the sound, finding comfort there, and a way to voice his needs.

He gazed up, brown eyes pleading, while hands gripped the leather garb. "I want the voices to stop. I want it to be quiet. Please... make it stop hurting."

For once there was no snarky remark, nor sarcastic comment. Empathy and understanding shone in the trickster's face, along with a seed of want. He knew exactly how Tony felt, knew the crushing weight of a man's own mind, and the need to escape.

The fingers renewed their combing of Tony's hair. "Oh, Tony....Anthony..." rose colored lips gazed along Tony's brow, his eyes fluttering closed as he drank in the sensations, like a thirsty dog lapping up a bowl of water. It was pathetic how a few tender touches could bring him so low. But while he was in the pits, he might as well have company.

A brush across his lips brought his attention back to the god, and when he opened his eyes a pair of green ones were very close.

"Do you wish to give up this control, Tony Stark?" Loki asked, intensity in every line.

Tony shivered, the way his head was tilted back already had his neck in such a vulnerable position, and it made him long for more.

"I do."

"Are you willing to submit yourself to me, completely and with full consent, trusting in my powers to hold you together?"

"I do!" He wanted to shake the god, make him hurry up, make him understand how desperately he needed this, but before he could shove the man, a thumb slipped between his teeth, making Tony pause as the taste of skin assaulted his senses. A soft groan escaped him, his lips closing around the digit and swallowed it eagerly.

Loki's breath visibly changed. "Very well. I accept. Stand up, remove your clothes."

Loki backed away from the bed and Tony scrambled to rid himself of his shirt, his skin tingling with the sound of the firm order. Loki's voice had gained an extra layer of depth, and Tony could do nothing but obey, the promise laced in the command too good to ignore.

When his pants and underwear was tossed away, Tony stood on the spot where Loki had indicated, shivering slightly in the air as he waited. Loki liked to make him wait. He also liked to make Tony guess what was going to happen, giving Tony an order to face away while he rummaged about in Tony's closet.

Waiting was awful, as was the order not to look. Tony itched to turn around, defy the rule, and take whatever consequence would come, but before he could twist his head there was a presence just behind him.

"Hold your wrists up." Tony obeyed, putting them together. His breath hitched in a barely audible gasp as silk ties wrapped around them securely, then hoisted Tony's arms up and above his head, hanging him as if from an invisible hook.

Tony lifted his feet off the floor and swung a bit. "That's.... really weird."

A soft chuckle sounded behind him. "Try not to think about it."

"See, you say that, but I've got to know, is it hanging on something, is it an invisible magnet? Is it-"

A hand struck his rear and Tony yelped, swinging slightly in the air. He put his toes back on the floor. "Hey! I'm just curious."

"Focus, Stark. Curiosity will not change your predicament, nor will it satisfy my craving."

Tony swallowed, suddenly a little nervous. "What kind of craving?"

A warm, bare chest pressed against his back, the trickster's breath tickling his ear. "I crave your submission. The way you will break beneath my hands, piece by piece until you are an extension of myself. I will bring you low, so low you will forget who you are... then I will rebuild you."

Tony's breathing had picked up, the thought both terrifying and wonderful. This was his problem, why he was so addicted. Loki was an expert in taking away everything that plagued him, leaving Tony as empty and clean as a fresh coat of paint.

Tony nodded his head, wetting his lips with a tongue. "That sounds good. Get on with it, then."

That earned him another swat on the behind. "Mind your manners, Tony. Or I will make you regret it."

Tony smirked, though Loki was behind him. "Bring it on, cupcake."

The warm chest left him, leaving Tony adrift and uncertain, hanging in the middle of his room by magic with his hands tied together. He was open, and completely vulnerable.

As he waited, without bidding a memory rose to his mind, of Miami and a basement, being tired to a metal bed frame with crude plastic ties. It swelled like a tide, the crushing feeling of panic, of standing there while a woman was shot before his eyes, while a psychopath threatened Pepper and everything Tony loved.

He tugged on the invisible rope, lungs struggling to pull in oxygen. Why did he do this? What was the point? He hated being tied up and out of control why would he agree to this, he was insane, insane, and sick.

Only....

Tony grew still, breathing slowing down. He had chosen this. That was the difference. He was in his own room, and that was silk around his wrists, not plastic. Sure, there was a different psychopath right behind him, but Tony had long since given up trying to reason out why he no longer minded Loki being in the same room. Or touching him.

Like he had said, it was an addiction. One of the nails in the coffin that had driven Pepper away. But no, he wasn't going to think about Pepper... He wasn't going to think at all.

Fingers were back in his hair, pulling his head backward. "Are you well, Stark?"

Tony flicked his tongue over dry lips and nodded.

"Very well. Remember your safety word, should it become too much."

Tony stiffened in anger. "I don't need a fucking safe-!"

The hand in his hair tugged sharply, cutting off his words and making him wince. "Do not, talk back to me, Stark. You will remember our safeguards, or I will cut you down now. Understood?"

Tony huffed, the voice demanding nothing less but full obedience. This is what Tony wanted, right? Play by Loki's rules or don't play at all.

"Alright. I get it."

There was silence, a heavy anticipation, and Tony realized what he had forgotten.

"Yes, sir," he breathed out, his pride taking a hit from that alone.

But he was rewarded with his hair being released, and the hand slowly moving down his throat to his chest, down even further to his groin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He groaned, leaning into the touch, trying to buck against him, but it only caused him to swing slightly in the ties.

Loki chuckled and the hand disappeared, causing Tony to whine in disappointment.

"Then let us begin," said the god, slowly walking around Tony in a circle, looking the man up and down in a very interested and possessive manner. Tony could see the barely restrained beast in those sparkling green eyes, which turned the fire up in his veins another couple of degrees. Loki had a black crop, which he was tapping against a leather clad thigh, though his chest was bare in all its glory. He could not recall watching Loki undress. Tony's eyes followed that crop, anticipation making him shiver.

"Look at you... The great Tony Stark! Tied up and at my mercy. How far you have fallen... how pathetic."

Tony closed his eyes, letting the rich tones wash over him, stripping away the layers of his being.

There was a touch on his thigh and Tony unconsciously flinched, memories of torture rising up again, but he managed to focus on the crop as it travelled around his leg, and over his bare ass, following Loki as he stalked in circles. Thanks to the touch, Tony could track his movements, and he knew that was Loki's intention. As he didn't make a protest, Loki continued.

"You are nothing. Not even worthy of standing in my presence. Not until I make you worthy." The last sentence was whispered in Tony's ear, and fuck if that did not turn him on more.

Tony realized Loki had paused for something, and he nodded his head vigorously. "Y-yes... sir."

"Hmmm, good." Loki had completed a circle, trailing the crop over a nipple then raising Tony's chin higher with the end. "What are you, pet?"

Tony squirmed, reluctant to answer. "Um... really good looking?" The crop lightly smacked his nipple, causing him to jerk. "Ah! Ok, kidding! I.... I am nothing."

That was fucking difficult to say.

"Yes, good. You are not a genius here, nor a hero. You have no armor to help you, no avengers to call on to save you. It is just you...and I."

Loki's arms went around Tony's waist, the crop pulling him close until he was flush against the god, their mouths sharing the same air, and if Loki would only lean forward a little...

Tony got a brush of lips, but was denied the full kiss as Loki stepped back again, causing him to slump against the ties, cursing softly as his erection throbbed.

"Damnit," he gritted out while Loki laughed at his predicament. The crop was back, trailing over his nipples and down his hips, around his manhood without touching it at all. Tony cursed louder and tugged again.

Loki moved out of his life of sight, causing Tony's pulse to spike.

"You are nothing but my pet. An amusement to me with your begging and crying."

Tony gritted his teeth, unable to give in just yet. "There's not going to be any begging, pal."

"Oh no? Do you doubt my abilities? I assure you, pet, you will be screaming my name before I am through with you."

Tony groaned, his knees going weak. Loki was not bluffing, he could do it. It is what Tony was counting on. His resistance was only a game, and they both knew it.

Without any warning the crop came down on his unprotected backside, a sharp sounding crack as it hit skin. Tony yelped and jerked, then got angry he had given in.

"Is that all you've got?" He demanded.

Another smack silenced him, followed by three more in quick succession. Tony was having trouble keeping the groans in, biting his lip as each strike set his ass on fire.

"It seems I must whip the sarcasm from you, pet. That is a lesson you have not yet learned."

Tony opened his mouth, then cried out at the second wave of strikes, jerking and swinging from the ties, the unrelenting crop not wasting a single blow. It was difficult to focus on anything but the sharp sting, anticipating the next rush of wind but unable to predict where it would fall.

There was a pause, and Tony slumped against the ties, breathing heavily, his entire backside on fire. It hurt, oh god, did it hurt, but he deserved this, it was the smallest of prices for his crimes. It wouldn't rebuild a country, or give back parents to the orphans he had created, but it would help him sleep, and tomorrow.... tomorrow he could try again.

A hand brushing along the inflamed skin of his ass brought Tony back to the present, took him out of his thoughts and made him aware of the god who was only an inch behind him, figuring out how to take him apart.

"Look at you," purred the deep voice. "A sad mess, unable to think of anything but your failures."

Tony had to bite his lip, the cutting words driving into his core, his lungs struggling again, but in a different way. The crop he could deal with, it was the awful truth that stared him in the face, burning deeper than a brand, leaving rotting flesh in its wake.

"Repeat after me, pet. 'I am not my failures'."

Tony felt a flutter of panic and shock, tugging on the ropes and swinging slightly. "Loki, what the hell, that's not what we agreed-"

A flat palm smacked his behind, making him yelp sharply, then gasp as his head was pulled back by the hair. It was a classic Loki move, reminding Tony how powerless he was.

"Speak that way to me again, and you will know the meaning of pain! You have not yet proven that you are ready, Stark. I told you, I will have you begging for mercy. Now, repeat it."

Tony's chest was heaving, rebellion stuck in his throat. He couldn't say it, it was all wrong. But he needed this... needed to fall, to crumble beneath their hands, needed the screaming to stop. Loki always knew the best ways...

"I..." Tony licked his unwilling lips. "I am not my failures..."

A rush left him, the fight in his body abandoning him all at once as he hung in the air. He felt empty, fragile, ready to break at any moment. That's when warm hands ran up his sides and encircled him, drawing him into heat and safety, holding him together. He heard a choking sound, and realized it was him.

"That is good. And who do you belong to? Who do you want to please?"

Tony inhaled a shuddering breath and let it out, feeling calmer and more focused, relaxing into the hands that held him up. "I belong to you, sir."

"Ooh, that is my good boy."

Warmth blossomed in his chest as Loki took a step back, keeping him steady. Tony's world focused once more on the hard stick that was trailing across his abdomen, and when Loki came into view Tony realized he would do anything to have those hands on him again. The dark didn't seem so close anymore, nor so crushing. Loki was keeping it at bay.

Loki could see that need, his lip curling up in a pleased grin as he brushed the leather crop along Tony's groin and between his thighs, watching with interest as the organ began to fill again. His ass was still on fire, but the pleasant sensations from the crop were beginning to take over.

Tony thought he would speed up the process by letting out a lusty moan, watching Loki through hooded eyes, gyrating his hips in tiny movements. That usually helped with the ever so calm god. The trickster raised an eyebrow and continued touching him, both with the crop and his hands, making Tony abandon all plans and endure the slow torture.

"D-Damnit...." Tony gasped, unconsciously spreading his legs and arching his back when the crop slipped between his cheeks and underneath, making his cock twitch with need. "That's cheating..."

"Have you met me?" Came the amused reply. "Oh Tony... you know what you must do."

Tony shook his head, gasping as more pressure was applied to his entrance, nothing breaching him yet, but the promise was there. His arms shook with the effort of holding him up.

"Yes, pet, I want to hear it. My favorite word, as precious to me as your reactor had been to you. Say it, pet, and I can give you what you need."

Tony wanted to say something snarky in return, probably earning him a few more strikes, but the sudden feel of teeth on his neck made him jump, groaning as a hot mouth sucked a mark onto his skin.

Fuck it, Tony thought, throwing away all dignity. There was no point in drawing this out.

"Please! Please, sir! I can't wait any more, I want you!"

He whined pitifully as long fingers stroked him, and more bites peppered his neck. "What do you want, pet? Tell me."

"I want-!" What did he want again? Whatever it took, apparently, but Loki wanted specifics. "I want you to hold me down and fuck me, sir."

A slight pause, then the hand squeezed his shaft and released him. The voice in Tony's ear sounded rougher than it was before. "What a good boy...oh yes, I am quite pleased."

The invisible hook released him, Tony's heavy body nearly falling before he was caught by strong arms that bore him to the bed, shoving him down face first on the mattress with his still bound wrists trapped beneath him. Now it felt like the god, who had been so careful and controlled before, was unable to keep himself from touching, kissing, and biting whatever piece of flesh was before him, making Tony cry out and whimper against the bed spread.

Cool, wet fingers touched between his cheeks, and Tony relaxed into it, groaning as they slid into him, making him more vulnerable than before. It took forever, it seemed, while Tony bucked and begged for more, until Loki retracted his fingers and bent over the mortal, laying his chest to Tony's back. The contract reminded him of the flames in his backside, causing more whimpers.

 _Now we're talking_ , Tony thought, wiggling his ass slightly until it became more comfortable. It always amazed him how good this felt, being pinned down and taken, and from the sounds Loki was making, the other man was in agreement. He didn't know why Loki's arms felt like safety, but there was no room for panic or anything else while Loki's cock was ramming into him.

Loki muffled his own moans against Tony's shoulder, latching on with his teeth. Loki had a thing about teeth. Tony didn't mind the sharp sting, the extra heat making it better.

Tony was vocal, slurring Loki's name among with an abundance of begging, desperation driving him, wanting to crash head first into the best orgasm he could possibly get. He could almost taste it, the fire within him almost reaching a peak, his world focused down to the hard length inside, rubbing along that perfect spot....

A hand curled around his neck, one that had once tried to kill him and now gave him the most exquisite pain.

"You will cum for me, Tony. Do it!"

The hand squeezed, just enough pressure to force obedience. As if Tony could hold back any longer...

Tony shuddered, moaned, and broke beneath the god, spilling on the sheets beneath him, then slumping down in a boneless mess. A couple more thrusts was all Loki needed, apparently, for he, too, gave a groan and went still, his breath blowing through Tony's hair.

Then everything was blissful and quiet, his mind numb to anything else. Tony was vaguely aware of something leaving him, of a cool cloth and tender hands. Then he was being drawn into a warm embrace, the fit chest making a perfect pillow. He did not fight it, for he knew deep down that this was safety. The silk was gone from his wrist, so Tony could wrap his arms around the steady pillar.

"Are you feeling well?" Loki asked, his voice calming and smooth. His hands were stroking down Tony's back and he did not want them to stop.

"Yeah, yeah. M'good. Better than, actually."

He felt Loki relax. It was odd to him that the trickster cared more about hurting him during sex than any other time. Perhaps it was not so odd.

"Very well. I do hope that was what you needed, Tony."

"It was, big guy," Tony assured him, snuggling in deeper. "Hey, Loki?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks, buddy."

The hand never stopped until Tony was drifting off to sleep, the two of them entangled until the morning.

 


End file.
